Night Stalker Read online

  Night Stalker

  By Nikki Jefford

  About:

  Fane Donado’s always been a grab life by the teeth kind of vampire. When his alluring friend Cassie requests help investigating suspicious vamp deaths in the Caribbean Islands, Fane hops the first plane down. Playing Sherlock Holmes isn’t half as enticing as convincing Cassie to break her number one rule of not dating other vampires. But if it’s true that a vampire hunter’s trolling the islands, they’re all at risk.

  This story prequels the Aurora Sky: Vampire series and can be read before or anytime during the series.

  Night Stalker originally appeared in the Vampires of the Caribbean Anthology as A Vampire’s Life For Me.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or the author has used them fictitiously.

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Copyright © 2017 Nikki Jefford

  All rights reserved

  www.NikkiJefford.com

  Edited by Hollie The Editor

  Cover by Nowicki Productions

  ONE

  The holidays were over and with them color had leached from the sky leaving behind a solid gray that entombed New York City from every angle. Not to be outdone by the vault of gloom, the wind and rain surged sideways against the apartments at Central Park West, scattering heavy raindrops across the windowpanes.

  Two white porcelain mugs were centered on placemats at our small square table. A hardbacked tome, two inches thick, rested beside a cup of tea with steam rising, like breath fogging the winter air. I seated myself opposite the book to drink warmed blood from the most boring mug on the planet. In this day and age there was simply no excuse for a cup without character, but Joss stubbornly refused to serve my a.m. snack from the Mornings Bite novelty mug I’d been so thrilled to find. The design included bite marks below a clever font that dripped like blood.

  Joss had not found it amusing, but then, nothing amused so much as annoyed my nineteenth century British friend. Being buried alive in a mass grave had given Joss a sour taste for humanity—so much so that he only drank their blood when reaching the point of collapse. As a result, Joss looked pale and gaunt near constantly, appearing more like a sickly young man on his last legs than one who would live forever.

  Drinking blood had never been a problem for me. I’d always been a “grab life by the teeth” kind of vamp. Carpe the death out of diem!

  Joss and I made an unlikely pair. Our New York friends called us the Odd Couple. The melancholy British vamp and the living-it-large Italian, Francesco “Fane” Donado.

  But as Joss took a seat, head bent, mind on his book before his eyes had even hit the page, it struck me this was all beginning to feel maddeningly mundane . . . the very antithesis of being a supernatural being.

  As Joss sipped, eyes ever on the page, the unrest began to build inside me as surly as the rain clouds high above the city haze. Seven and a half years in New York City. Way past overdue for a change of scenery. I would have departed years ago if it hadn’t been the first place Joss seemed somewhat content. But Joss knew what life with a restless Italian vamp entailed. That didn’t stop him from complaining, but he’d pack it all up if I told him to. He’d been following me around since the moment he crawled out of that body pit in England and looked up to see me searching the stinking mass grave for anyone like me.

  Undead.

  The change didn’t involve biting as popular fiction portrayed. It involved something far less romantic. Disease. I’d spent the better part of two centuries trying to get to the bottom of it. After searching the world over, I’d found a commonality. Blood type. All the undead had AB negative or AB positive blood. We had contracted diseases that should have been fatal but had instead triggered something altogether different in our biological evolution.

  For me it had been the plague in Venice.

  I would have thought there would have been something about it in the news by now, but the secret remained buried or, more likely, covered up like those bodies from long ago.

  Joss turned a page of his book without looking up while I lifted the mug to my lips.

  The first sip of morning blood sang down my throat and zinged through my veins, quickening my pulse.

  As Joss kept his narrow nose pointed at the pages opened over the table, I scrolled through emails on my phone, coming across one from my friend Cassie with a link to an article in the Bermuda Sun.

  American Man Dies In Scuba Diving Accident

  The article took up all of three paragraphs, unlike Cassie’s email which went on the length of a symphony, sans intermission. Several key phrases caught my attention: “not an accident,” “vampire hunter stalking the islands,” and “how soon can you get here?”

  A smile lifted my lips. I set down my mug with a decisive clunk. “Pack your swim trunks and beach towel, Josslyn. We’re going to the Caribbean.”

  Tea sloshed over the edge of Joss’s pristine porcelain mug as his head jerked up. The scowl on his face was priceless and highly amusing for yours truly. At least his Earl Grey missed the pages of his book, scattering in droplets over the placemat and table. I smirked as the first in a litany of protests pried open his pale lips.

  “But it’s hot. And humid. It’s sunny,” he sputtered as I searched online for first-class tickets to St. Maarten.

  I lifted my phone inches from my face and grinned when I found a flight leaving the next morning.

  “How soon can you get here?” Sounded like a challenge to me.

  “Why?” Joss demanded.

  “Remember Cassie?” I asked as I booked our seats.

  “Cassie the Kiwi?”

  “No. Cassie the Canadian. We met her in New Zealand, but she’s from Canada originally.”

  Joss grumbled. “And now she’s in the Caribbean. I expect there’s a reason she has summoned us.”

  “There is,” I said, lowering my phone to shoot him an amused grin. “A vamp had his lights turned out permanently and she wants me to get to the bottom of it.”

  Wrinkles formed over Joss’s forehead as though he were deeply pained. His scowl cut through his hollow cheeks. “What does she expect you to do about a deceased vampire? You’re not bloody Sherlock Holmes. The prat probably deserved to die.”

  I shrugged. “Maybe. But it’s as good a reason as any to get out of here.”

  “I like it here,” Joss said with another grumble.

  When I didn’t offer a comment, he looked downright sulky. We’d be having “the talk” soon. Usually Joss was more than ready to walk away from the places we lived, but not so with New York. Wait until I told him what I had in mind next. Alaska. Couldn’t wait to see the expression his face made for that one. Probably similar to the one he had on now, like he’d sucked on a lemon and forgotten to wash it down with a shot of tequila.

  Tickets booked, I downed the rest of the blood and set to work finding a resort.

  Reading material temporarily forgotten, Joss leaned over the table. “I trust you will procure lodgings with air-conditioning.”

  “Only the best for you,” I said with a smirk.

  TWO

  Palm trees fanned out overhead as I made my way to Maho Beach on the Dutch side of St. Maarten. Bright lights beckoned nighttime revelers into the island’s after-hours clubs. Techno music thumped from open windows and doors. Groups of beautiful young people walked past me, laughing with genuine pleasure. Humid air bathed my arms in warmth, and I felt something I hadn
’t in years—the thrum of life swirling up inside me.

  I reveled in the sensation, drifting down the walkway, in no rush to reach my destination.

  I lit a cigarette, took a puff, then tossed it in the next trash bin, too taken up breathing in the new surroundings to cloud it up with smoke.

  Before leaving the hotel, I texted Cassie: Where do you want to meet?

  To which she replied: ur really here? :) Red Rum Lounge asap. Tonight we play. Work tomorrow. ;-)

  Good to know the years hadn’t dampened Cassie’s spirits. Even murder and the possibility of a vampire hunter lurking around the islands couldn’t get in the way of her evening fun.

  Not surprisingly, Joss elected to remain cooped up in our ocean-facing penthouse, curtains drawn.

  I didn’t understand why he grumbled so much. He could read a book just as well in the Caribbean as he could back in New York. A lot of vampires would kill to be in his position. He had his very own vamp daddy offering extravagance and adventure, no strings attached, and he chose to spend it reading.

  In theory, we had all the time in the world, but I’d never let that slow me down. Life was meant to be lived, whether there were decades or centuries ahead of us.

  As I walked past a group of women in string bikini tops and cutoff jean shorts, my phone vibrated inside my pocket. Pulling out my phone, I saw a new text from Cassie: where r u?

  I grinned as I typed: Marco

  Two seconds later Cassie replied: POLO!!!

  With a laugh, I pocketed my phone. I could practically hear Cassie squealing inside my brain. My steps quickened, suddenly spurred on by the prospect of socializing. There’d be plenty of time for sightseeing in the days to come.

  Soon I reached the Red Rum Lounge, the name lit up inside a large red rectangular sign outside. Live reggae music played within. The bar was already jam packed with a mass of twenty-somethings dominating the scene. They danced and smiled like they were having the time of their lives. The animation inside had an intoxicating effect that rushed over me instantly.

  Energy pulsed through my body. It felt a bit like drinking blood. My heart soared with happiness to be here in this moment. If I’d been mortal, I would have missed all the dazzling achievements mankind had made—railways and steam trains, air travel, space travel, the fashions, the music, the literature and art. My life might have ended with the Black Death and a place inside the Donado burial vault. Instead, it went on and on, and it was the most wonderful thing. Moments such as these made me feel outside myself, my mind a marvel at the extraordinary gift life had given me when I thought of all the people, undead and otherwise, I would have never met had I died when I should have.

  A slow scan of the crowd led me to Cassie standing at the bar drumming her pink painted nails on the counter. She kept her head turned to the door, which made me smile, delighted I’d slipped into the club undetected.

  She leaned over the counter briefly before lifting her head again. As she did, my phone vibrated.

  Marco?

  Her text made me grin.

  Sticking to her blind spot, I made my way over while drinking in the sight of her long, slender, sexy legs. From this angle a mere swatch of tight denim covered her toned ass, leaving the rest of her body exposed.

  Her wheat-colored hair had been pulled over her shoulders, leaving her back completely exposed with the exception of the white straps knotted at the back of her neck.

  Blood rushed to my groin. I felt an insatiable urge to bite her. Drink from her. But Cassie had a type and it wasn’t anything AB. Like a wine connoisseur, she knew her reds better than most vamps and turned up her nose at any blood that was vampire, or had the biological ability to become vampire.

  This only made me want to bite her more.

  I ran the tip of my tongue languidly over the back molars I’d filed to points. Nothing too obvious, didn’t want to detract from the charming Donado Cheshire grin. They were merely to assist in piercing flesh more delicately.

  Cassie kept her eyes facing the club’s entrance. Her fingers rested on the counter then began drumming anew. I smirked to myself, eager to join her but not quite ready to relinquish the delectable view of her from behind.

  About five seconds before I risked slithering over to the creeper zone, I crossed the remaining distance, pressed myself against Cassie’s back, and whispered huskily beside her ear, “Polo.”

  Her body gave a shiver that made my groin tighten in response.

  My streak of one-night stands was becoming tiresome, not that I wasn’t appreciative that blood and sex were so generously provided by the ladies of the twenty-first century. But I’d forgotten how much fun it was to flirt with someone familiar.

  Cassie spun around, face alighting as she threw her arms around my neck and kissed my cheeks. “Eek, you’re here!” She gave me another squeeze, breasts pushing into lovely pale mounds that peeked between the V of her halter top.

  When she released my neck and leaned back to look at me, I raised my eyebrows. “Cas, you missed a spot,” I said, pointing to my lips.

  Cassie rolled her eyes and gave me a playful push. Figured, but the night was still young. She might not want vampire blood, but sex could still be on the table. Never say die . . . unless you’re a mortal. I’d been jonesing for Cassie ever since we first met in New Zealand.

  “What’s this? No woman back home?” she asked now, batting her lashes mockingly. “No sophisticated city girl?”

  “Nope.”

  Cassie smirked. “Joss would probably scare any serious contenders away. Speaking of the ol’ ball and chain, is he here? Not here, here obviously,” Cassie said, waving her hand into the crowd and throwing in an eye roll. “But on the island?”

  “Do pirates drink rum?” I returned.

  “Haven’t met any, but vampires certainly do,” Cassie said with a wink. “The Red Rum Lounge is managed by a vamp named Lucas. He’ll fix you a blood and rum if you like.”

  Wrinkling my nose, I asked, “Why would I want to dilute blood?”

  “Good point.” The blues of Cassie’s irises shone beneath the bar’s track lights. “No matter. There’s plenty of that around here, and I’m talking fresh.” She smiled deviously and leaned beside my ear to whisper, “None of that bagged crap.”

  My fingers twitched with the urge to slide down her thigh as she pressed against me to be heard over the music. But even the twenty-first century couldn’t rob me of the manners my mama had hammered into me centuries before. My mouth had a mind of its own, but my hands were under strict orders not to grope without invitation.

  “Fresh supply always coming in,” Cassie continued, oblivious to the hunger her proximity stirred inside me. Her cheeks dimpled and for a moment I thought she knew exactly what I was thinking about and would tease me for my wayward thoughts, but she was a vamp with blood on the brain. “Cruise ships brings them in by the boatload. They have their buffet, we have ours.”

  As soon as her words sank in, I laughed. “You haven’t changed a bit, Cas.”

  She leaned back and grinned at me. “Nope. I’m still the cutest blood-sucking vamp on the block.” Cassie chuckled then studied my face. “You’ve changed, though. You were a blond the last time I saw you.”

  “You dig?” I asked, running my fingers through my thick black hair, pulling my hand away all suave and Joe Cool.

  Cassie lifted her bare shoulders. “Black. Blond. Both colors suit you.”

  “Maybe I’ll try a combination of both.”

  Cassie lips pulled back. “That sounds hideous. Don’t do it, Fane.”

  “I think I will,” I said with a grin.

  Cassie groaned. “And you really would.”

  “You know me,” I said, leaning closer. “I’ll try just about anything, including AB negative.”

  “Ugg, feeding from or sleeping with another vampire seems way too incestuous.”

  I grabbed my head in both hands. “Way to dampen the mood.”

  Cassie laughed. �
�With you I have to go to extremes. You’re relentless.”

  “Guess I’ll have to find a woman who digs dating a vampire.”

  “Plenty of them out there,” Cassie said, nodding at the dancing mass. “You don’t need me.”

  I didn’t look into the crowd. I stared at Cassie. As my eyes lingered on hers, she cleared her throat. “Hey, Lucas,” she called over the bar, eyes still latched on to mine as though we’d entered a staring contest she couldn’t let me win, “meet my good friend Francesco Donado. Goes by Fane.”

  “A vamp with humor, I like him already,” a deep accented voice returned.

  With a shift of my eyes, I locked onto all six feet two inches of Lucas. The man was skinny but toned, muscles pressed in tight and straining against his Red Rum logo T-shirt. We could have exchanged clothes our builds were so similar.

  “Love what you’ve done to the place,” I said to Lucas, leaning an arm over the counter with a lazy grin.

  He smiled. “Thanks, mate. Can I fix you up the house specialty?”

  “A blood and rum? How about you leave out the rum?”

  Cassie smacked me again. “You’ll get your fill of blood soon enough. Let Lucas make you a Red Rum first.”

  I shrugged. “I better do as the lady says.”

  Lucas smirked. “Red Rum coming right up.” He turned and moved away from the counter to mix my drink.

  “Lucas seems cool,” I said, following his movements. “Though I’m having trouble placing his accent.”

  Cassie laughed. “That’s because it’s fake.”

  Who would speak with a fake accent? “American?” I guessed.

  Cassie nodded, cheeks dimpling in delight. “Dan from Colorado.”

  “His name’s fake, too?” I asked incredulously.

  Cassie’s arm pressed against mine on the counter. Her irises looked as blue as the Atlantic Ocean surrounding the island. “In the Caribbean you can be anyone you want.”